Obsession
by Copperbell111
Summary: Francis is obsessed with his new husband Arthur. His internal issues make him paranoid and depressed however when he see's Arthur crying for him he feels powerful, and wants more of it. Whatever will this lead to? FRUK and one sided USUK. (small crossover with House M.D (Dr House))
1. Chapter 1

Another day dawned and another world conference began. The nations gathered in Germany this time at the Reichstag, in Berlin and with several topic on the agenda it looked like they were going to be busy for a while.

As usual Francis drove Arthur to the conference, a duty that he'd got used to in the time they were married. He also parked the car and opened the door for Arthur, a gesture that did not go un noticed by the rest of the nations who thought it rather sweet, Germany however thought it was a bit strange.

"Why is Francis doing everything for him?" He muttered as he watched from a window. "France has been so taken with England these past months since their wedding, since that time they almost got killed." He said "I can understand that, but why is he just doing everything for him, as if he can't do it himself?"

"Italy appeared with some cooked pasta for Germany and laid it in front of him." I cooked this for you, and your clothes are folded and in your wardrobe." He said happily. "I have almost finished the hoovering, I should get back to it…"

Germany was about to complain a little more about France doing everything for England but then it hit him that Italy was doing everything for _him._ "Okay… maybe not so unusual…" he uttered as Italy got on with the hoovering."

Francis wrapped his arm around Arthur as they walked into their apartment near the Reichstag allocated to them by Germany. Arthur leaned into him and also wrapped his arm around Francis' waist, well aware that the other nations were staring at them and for once in his life he wasn't embarrassed, he was proud to be seen with his husband.

"I think our friends are jealous of our love mon amour." Francis said as they went inside.

"That doesn't surprise me." Arthur said and kissed him softly on the lips. Their bond was stronger than ever. Francis then went to make some tea and cook some lunch for them before the conference began. Arthur was slowly getting used to French cuisine, and Francis always made him something unusual. He was about to start unpacking when Francis stopped him. "Don't worry I'll get on with this…" He said "… and lunch won't be long. You don't have to lift a finger mon amour."

"But I can unpack…" Arthur began.

"I just want to do this for you." Francis said and kissed him. "You sit down, you don't travel so well mon amour."

Arthur had to agree. He did get a little travel sick these days and had to travel in the front seat of the car as such.

"Well if you're sure…" He said with a little smile.

"You go and lay down for a while." Francis said. "Take the weight off your feet."

"Uhh… alright…" He replied and went to the sofa, where he read some magazines, while Francis did just about everything. He made a beautiful lunch of Coq au vin, and laid it out on the table for Arthur.

"Lunch is ready." He said and took Arthurs hand, leading him from the sofa to the little kitchen. The spread on the table looked just lovely, and appetizing. Arthur was about to sit down, but Francis pulled the chair out for him first.

Arthur sat down and started to eat his food. It was, as usual delicious, and Francis poured some wine for him, sitting down next to him and kissing him gently on the cheek.

"You do so much for me these days." Sighed Arthur as he sipped the wine.

"I want to do these things for you." Replied Francis. "It makes me happy to see you happy, and I will do whatever I can for you."

"I'm… not used to this…" Arthur said "I've always had to fight to live, to give my people what they need, and now… here you are, its like you're looking after me."

"I always will do this for you." Replied Francis but inside he was thinking that maybe Arthur didn't like it. Why was he saying these things all of a sudden? Usually he would just accept that Francis wanted to help him with everything. It was troubling for him, but then Francis always did have internal struggles. He was sure that his Angleterre knew that he did suffer from depression from time to time. Somehow, he couldn't get his mind off this, and tried even more to please Arthur, even picking out a suit for him to wear to the conference, and tying his tie nice for him.

"Honestly love, you don't have to do everything." Arthur said gently as Francis was fixing his tie. "Just… don't ok?" He said, sounding a little insensitive. The truth was he'd seen that his love was getting a little OCD and that was disturbing. Not that he didn't appreciate everything. "Lets go to the conference, and stop fussing over me, I don't need to be mollycoddled."

Francis grew fearful. There he was doing his best for the man he loved and he called it mollycoddling? Why would he say such a thing? Didn't he care? His thoughts became more and more paranoid and he didn't take much to do with the discussion that afternoon although he sat next to his Angleterre and held hands with him almost obsessively. Everyone could see that he was besotted with Arthur and yet Arthur didn't seem as besotted with Francis. He seemed aloof, and uncaring, but what they didn't know was that was just how he learned to deal with his emotions, to act as if they didn't exist. In truth he adored Francis' attention, he just was worried he was doing too much.

During the break they walked towards the courtyard and Francis tried to put his arm around Arthur but he pulled back a little. There was no reason for it, he just suddenly felt like Francis was doing too much, and it was a natural reaction.

"Angleterre…" uttered Francis .

"What?" Snapped Arthur, picking up the angst from Francis. Something was brewing up here, and he didn't want to argue with him, even so, he could feel that he was very tense.

"You do not wish me to be by your side… you push me away… you don't want me to do the things I do for you…" Francis said looking quite upset. "You do not want me…"

"Oh no… Francis honestly…" groaned Arthur looking frustrated with him already. "Do we have to go through this…?"

"I look after you, I care for you and all you do is push me away…." He said angrily, "What do I have to do?"

"Nothing, you don't have to do anyth…" England started to say, but Francis had already taken everything the wrong way. Before he could continue, Francis walked off, his head bowed, and the feeling of angst practically radiating from him.

Arthur looked around and everyone was watching this little scene with interest. He hated that, and he felt so vulnerable right now.

"What the hell are you all looking at?" He yelled at everyone, Alfred, Matthew, Ludwig, everyone who was on their break at the same time, all looking at him, open mouthed.

All they saw was Francis in the courtyard, sitting there like his world had just ended, and Arthur storming off in the other direction.

"Francis?" Asked Matthew as he sat in the courtyard, head bowed and hardly looking at anyone. "What's the matter? What happened?"

After a few moments he forced himself to reply. "Angleterre … is an ungrateful self-centred pig." He said "I do everything for him. Cook, clean… everything. And he does nothing but push me away…" He uttered and tried not to cry in front of Matthew, that wouldn't be right.

"I'm sure Angleterre… England, doesn't mean it…" Matthew said trying to be helpful. "You should talk to him."

"There is no point in talking to him when he will not listen." Francis replied, noticing that a crowd was gathering around him. "I will not be treated this way. I am going home." He said.

"Home to… the house you share with Arthur of course…" Matthew said hopefully.

"Non." He replied. "Home to Paris… my 'ome. I do not wish to be with him any longer… I do not wish to see him." He said and stormed off out of there.

Later when the conference began again, Francis was not there and Arthur looked quite lost and worried about the whole thing. The others were giving him disapproving looks, like it was anything to do with them anyway. To them he just looked like he was nonchalant and didn't care about anything. He was quiet through the whole of the second half and kept looking to the door to see if Francis was just late but he never arrived. As everyone was about to leave, Matthew stopped by England and shook his head.

"Don't you care about him Arthur? Don't you give a damn?" He said with a look of disgust on his face. "You treat him like crap, you always have, how you can sit there and be all smug after what you've done, I don't know."

"What are you talking about? What has any of this got to do with you, or any of you for that matter?" He said looking round at the disapproving faces. "Leave me alone for heavens sake." He said and walked out of there back to the apartment in the Reichstag that had been allocated to him and Francis, only to find out that it was deserted. Francis was nowhere to be seen.

"Francis…?" gulped Arthur, his voice trembling. He checked the bedroom but he was not there. He looked everywhere till he found a note in the kitchen.

"Dear Angleterre… I realise I am nothing more than a burden to you. I will now leave you and go back to my home, I am never going to be good enough for you. – Francis Bonnefoy."

"No.. you're Francis Kirkland-Bonnefoy… you're my husband, you can't do this to me…"

Arthur fell to his knees, screaming his love's name at the top of his voice and crying out. Practically the whole of Berlin heard him crying out. "FRANCIS….!" He screamed "Francis…."

He was on his way out of the city, when he felt a real pain in his heart and he could have sworn he heard his name being called. He stopped the car and sat there crying his heart out for Arthur. Why had he rejected him like that…? Or maybe he was overthinking it… maybe… he'd got it wrong. After everything they had been through, why would he believe Arthur didn't want him? It didn't make sense. He slowly turned the car around and went back to him, he knew he couldn't leave no matter what.

When he opened the door to the apartment he set his bags down and sighed deeply. All was quiet, and no sign of Arthur, but… wait, the light in the kitchen was on. Instinctively he went there and found Arthur on the floor, clutching the note he'd left. The poor man was helpless, shaking and crying and staring into space like his world had ended, and it felt like it had. Something strange happened inside Francis' heart and mind at this time, he felt powerful, he felt his heart beat a million times faster than it should, the adrenalin was rushing through him. Arthur was crying, and those tears meant so much to him. He sighed a deep sigh, knowing now he was needed everything would be alright. It took a moment for Arthur to realise Francis had come back, and the hope in his eyes was unmistakable. He never hid those feelings from him and realised he'd come to rely on him for just about everything, he needed him as much as Francis wanted to be there for him.

"I…if… you want to do things for me… I … I don't mind…" He sobbed.

Francis knelt down and scooped him up in his arms. "Forgive me mon amour, I… don't know what is wrong with me." He said "I always worry so for you, I… thought you didn't want me around anymore."

"I need you Francis." Gulped Arthur. "As long as you want to do things for me… I won't be so hurtful towards you in the future. I promise. Don't leave me… please…" He said "I … was worried for you too." He uttered, the tears falling from his eyes. "That you were going through some sort of depression like you had before, and I didn't want to see you like that."

"I … know…" wept Francis. "And you are right… I … did feel so bad today. I don't know what to do…but doing these things for you and looking after you gives me some purpose. Something to look forward to… " He nearly added that seeing Arthur cry for him made him feel powerful but he was going to keep that a secret, he knew that could be taken badly. He wanted those tears, even if it meant shedding his own from time to time.

"I love you Francis… Je t'aime. How many times do I have to say it? How many times do I have to show you?"

"Je t'aime Arthur." Sniffed Francis and tore up the stupid note. "I am Francis Kirkland-Bonnefoy, your husband. I will not walk out on you over a silly argument."

"And I am Arthur Kirkland-Bonnefoy." Arthur replied. "Never forget that." He said through tears. "I know that if you leave me I will die… I will die without you…" he wept, and then felt Francis warm arms embrace him and it was so good. His touch was the most comforting thing in the world to him now, and he craved that embrace.

Francis picked him up from the floor as he had done many times and carried him from there into the bedroom practically feeding on the angst and the love, between them. "You will cry and beg for more from me" he thought to himself "I will make you weep."

He laid Arthur down on the bed and kissed him gently, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. "I am going to do something for you now, that you will never forget…" he said in a low sexy voice.

Arthur kissed him back, knowing exactly what he meant and he laid back submissively, staring into Francis gentle eyes. "Love me… " He said.

"With pleasure…" whispered Francis in reply as his body encompassed Arthurs.


	2. Je Vais T'aime

L'Ancelot.

Francis loved Arthur, so much that it hurt. He insisted on doing everything for him, so that he wouldn't have to lift a finger, he was truly his servant, but not because Arthur made him so, because he wanted to be. It seemed to give him purpose and seeing Arthur happy, because of him, was all he wanted. No one in the world was allowed to come near Arthur without going through Francis first. He loved him and protected him. At first Arthur was reluctant to let Francis help him with everything, but he relented, and over the months became quite dependent on him. This all started from that day when he was involved in the explosion and nearly died. Francis had taken on the role of servant, and interestingly, the very word "servant" in French was "L'Ancelot". The coincidence was quite uncanny. Arthur adored him in a way that even he could not explain. Francis had become his love, his husband, his protector, his servant, and increasingly, his whole world.

One night as they slept in Francis' little loft in the city of Paris, Francis awoke and gazed at his husband lying in his arms beside him. "I only hope that I have made you happy mon amour" He whispered gently.

Arthur mumbled a little in his sleep and snuggled close to him. Francis stroked his blonde hair tenderly and planted little kisses on his forehead. A few moments later he left his love sleeping there and went to get some coffee. He stood looking out at the city of Paris from the balcony window, listening to some music, but not loud enough to wake Arthur up. "Je vais T aimer" by Michel Sardou. As the music filled his mind and heart, tears formed in Francis' eyes and his chest started heaving, as he leaned there against the frame of the window. "Je Vais T' aimer…" He whispered. "I will love you."

He felt a hand upon his arm, and he turned to see Arthur there, his eyes filled with tears as he watched him, he looked at him with concern, obviously worried about him.

"Francis…?" He whispered "You're crying… " He said softly. "What is the matter?"

"Nothing… nothing … mon amour…" He whispered. "I am a very passionate man… you ignite that passion… you fill my heart and soul. You are my world." He said as they melted into an embrace in front of the window.

"You… aren't going through another depression are you my love?" Arthur whispered.

"Non, mon amour." Francis replied. "My love expresses itself for you… is all…"

"You are very passionate, this has moved you to tears." He whispered in reply and kissed his lips gently.

"You are beautiful to me England." Francis whispered.

"Then take me to bed." England replied, "My Lancelot…" he said in a breathy whisper, tinged with a deep passion. Francis did as he was bid, and picked him up, carried him to the bedroom and laid him down on the bed, kissing his neck tenderly, pulling him close to him. He positioned himself on top of his smaller lover and began his lovemaking, the music of Michel Sardou now filling the whole apartment. England was swept away by his Lancelot, as if it was a dream come true. France marvelled at his lover's deep fervour as they made love, the way he moved, the way he cried out when he could hold back no more, and yes the tears, how he loved those tears.

Later as they lay in each other's arms, Francis whispered sweet nothings to him and smooched his lips. "You are amazing." He uttered. "You cry when you climax… I love it." He said holding a still shaking Arthur in his arms.

"I can't help it…" Arthur replied, "You do things to me that would make Marquis De Sade turn pale." He said with a shaky smile. "I love you for it."

"Is it wrong when I love to hear your words, your passion… to see tears in your eyes?" Uttered Francis. "You are loved England, loved now and forever."

"Oh Francis…"

"And I will love you as no one has ever dared love you…" He whispered, "Beyond everything you have ever wished for, just as I would dearly wish to be loved…"

England gulped back strong emotions as France poured out every ounce of his passion and held on to him as if for dear life. "Je Vais T'aime…" he said in a deep voice, as he held him.

It had he desired effect, and he had made England cry, he sobbed heartily in his strong arms just like he wanted him to. He'd made him cry without hurting him, without fighting him, without having to walk out on him. He watched as Arthur's tears came, and he gently wiped his eyes with his thumb. The sense of power was incredible. By serving this man, by giving him love, by showing him more love than he had ever known, he had made him cry, and Arthur buried his face into Francis' chest and cried himself to sleep, but those were happy tears, passionate tears, not tears of sadness, as they had been before.

 _Enough to make any "Marquis de Sade" turn pale_

 _Enough to make the whores of harbours blush_

 _Enough to make all echo cry for mercy_

 _Enough to make the walls of Jericho tremble_

 _I will love you_

 _Enough to make Hells blaze in your eyes_

 _Enough to make all of the thunder of the gods cuss_

 _Enough to make your breast and all Saints rise_

 _Enough to make our hands beg and beseech_

 _I will love you_

 _I will love you_

 _As we've never loved you before_

 _I will love you_

 _Beyond what your dreams have wished_

 _I will love you, I will love you_

 _I will love you_

 _Like anyone has never dared to love you_

 _I will love you_

 _As I would have dearly wished to be loved_

 _I will love you, I will love you_

 _(Je Vais Te Aimer – Michel Sardou, translation into English)_

 _ **(I own nothing, not the song, not hetalia, purely fluff fanfic and yes I am a big softie.)**_


	3. Sacred Heart, Sacre Coeur

It was that time of year again, and Francis was worried about Arthur. Of course, Arthur tried to make it look as if he'd finally got over what happened in 1776, when America left him. Everyone knew how devastating it was for England when this happened, and for many years afterwards he was inconsolable. This year however he had decided to try to put on a brave face. He'd gone to visit America, celebrated with him and given him a present, he even congratulated him on his freedom for once. Now it was the day after, July 5th, and Arthur sat in the sitting room, reading and pretending he was fine, however Francis knew this wasn't true. For one, he'd been playing this music over and over repeatedly "The Story of The Blues" by some 80s group called "Wah". He'd practically shut himself off from the world for the whole day.

Francis was worried, so he eventually knocked on the door and tried to open it, only to find that Arthur had locked it, and that was alarming. He knocked and knocked and shouted. "Mon amour please open the door… what is going on there?"

 _First they take your pride_

 _Turn it on its side_

 _And then you realise you've got nothing left to lose_

 _So, you try to start, try to get back up_

 _And then you realise you're telling the story of the blues_

There was no sound from behind the door. Francis went completely pale as he imagined what might have happened in there. He pushed and pushed till the door broke off its hinges.

Arthur was sitting on the sofa, hugging his knees and staring into space, just listening to the music which was playing and thinking about America.

"Alors!" Exclaimed Francis. "Why did you lock the door? I was so worried about you Mon amour… "

"I didn't hear you…" Arthur said quietly. "Why can't I get through a year without going through hell?" He mumbled and reached out for his glass of cider. "I try to get over it… every year… I mean…you'd think that by now I'd be able to do it…" He drank it down in one go and then poured himself another.

"He wasn't just another nation… he was part of ME…" Arthur said punching his own chest. "He might as well have cut my knife out with a heart…"

"What?" asked Francis confused.

"Heart out with a knife…" England said with equal confusion.

"Oh…of course." Francis sighed. "You need to rest mon amour, you are starting to talk nonsense again."

"No… no I'm fine…" Gulped England sadly.

"You locked the door and you have been listening to this God awful music all day…." Grumbled Francis . "It 'as been torture for me trying to work from 'ome when you have zis rubbish blaring out louder than anything I have ever 'eard… "

"It's not rubbish… its British music…" Arthur replied "You have no taste at all." He said drinking more cider.

"Not true mon Cher, what about Michel Sardou, Je me Taimer.. hmm? Or ze great Serge Gainsbourg… Je t'aime.. those are great songs and far better than this nonsense…"

"I want to listen to it. I'm upset, I don't feel well and every time I think about him I want to…" Immediately England stopped talking and threw up blood. He threw his hands over his mouth but the blood seeped through and dripped on the carpet. Francis looked on in shock, realising that this was blood, not just normal vomit.

"Arthur… " He gasped.

"You know Francis… I really don't feel so well…" Coughed England falling to his knees.

"Mon dieu!" Cried Francis helping him back on to the sofa. "This is blood… you are suffering some sort of terrible illness."

"No… no… just a reaction." Arthur said. "Every year since he did this to me, it happens, usually in private, so nobody knows… except you now… and when anyone mentions America's independence I feel ill."

"Oh no…" Gasped Francis "That sounds terrible mon amour." He said and felt Arthur's brow, he was burning up. "You are more fragile than I thought, this has truly hurt you hasn't it?"

"Fragile? Me?" Coughed Arthur.

"Yes… fragile… and you tried to pass your illness off as travel sickness, didn't you?" Francis said realising that England, for all this time must have been suffering, not just emotional stress but a real sickness that he'd tried to hide from everyone. Nations didn't have the same illnesses as human beings did, they had other things, but they were quite obscure. France himself suffered terrible bouts of depression because of his internal struggles. It seemed America's independence had left an internal wound inside of Arthur that would never heal. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"How would that look?" Arthur sighed. "A nation once an empire like me… sick… can't get over losing America."

"Arthur…" France said with hesitation "We already see that…" He said trying to be sensitive. "But you are ill mon amour… you shouldn't hide this." He said softly. "Let me hold you."

"Francis…" He uttered, his voice cracking with emotion. Francis' had a sacred heart, he truly did, for even though he could be a terrible enemy, his Sacre Coeur made him into a beautiful being full of love for his fellow nation. He gasped as he saw tears whisper down Arthur's cheeks. "You do not have to try so hard to look good…" He said softly. ".. or well…" He continued. "Everyone can understand your pain…I truly do understand it…" He said sincerely and held Arthur in his arms. "Our sighs blend together so painfully mon amour…" He whispered. "I will always be here for you, and you can tell me anything. I promise I will not tell another person in this world unless you want me to."

"Please don't…" Gulped Arthur "I am not ready to admit my weaknesses… Damn America…" He uttered and coughed a little. More blood spewed from his mouth and down his chin, but Francis took a handkerchief and wiped it away. "Whoops…" He said being as gentle as possible. "Come now… let me take care of you. I like to help you in any way I can… you know this." He said gently. What Arthur didn't know was that Francis felt even more powerful, and more needed and wanted than ever, that he relished this, that he practically lived off this angst. Francis' heart did as it always did in these situations, beat far to fast, adrenalin rushed through him. England was opening up to him in more ways than he could have imagined, and he loved it.

"Let us get you to bed where you can rest and recuperate…" Francis said softly, helping Arthur to his feet. He got up but stumbled, so Francis picked him up.

"Hold on to me Arthur. I promise I won't ever let you suffer, no one loves you more than I do."

Arthur sank into the arms of France, losing himself in love. "There's nothing more… than this…" He sighed, the tears flowing freely.

"I hope that is not another reference to your British music." Laughed Francis gently as he took him to bed, laying him down. He got in next to him and hugged him.

"I will stay with you Mon Cher, let your tears come… its alright… its always alright." He whispered, as Arthur wept into his strong chest. Whenever the blood came, Francis wiped his chin, and held him. "Don't worry… everything will be alright." He said "Je T'aime… my Arthur."

 **Authors note: Listen to "The Story of the Blues" by WAH. And "More than this" by Roxy Music for effect.**


	4. Que L'amour Est Bizarre

Francis was out getting a few things for breakfast. He bought some croissants and some baguettes and made his way back to the little loft he shared with Arthur in the city of Paris. It was a beautiful morning and he felt quite happy. On the way he stopped by a chemist to get some medicine for England, just some painkillers, as he knew his love would probably wake up with a hangover considering the amount of cider he'd consumed the night before. He also bought some more paintbrushes and canvas as he was planning to do another painting of him, after the previous one was destroyed.

When he got home he could hear Arthur talking on the phone to someone and he couldn't help but overhear what he was saying.

"I don't know who you think you are talking to me like this…" He said indignantly "I gave you that gift because I… no.. no I was not being sarcastic. Don't swear at me… just don't… Oh… Oh you have to throw that in my face every time don't you?"

Francis crept behind the bedroom door and peaked in without disturbing him. He slammed the phone down and sat there with his head in his hands, deep sobs consuming his body.

"Francis…" he sobbed, not realising that he was behind the door. "I need you, why did you leave me here alone? "

Francis felt his heart swell as England wept, but stayed watching him just a little bit longer. England cried heartily, and more blood seeped from his mouth, all over his chin. He'd never felt so depressed but there was no way America was going to know how he was really feeling. The only person he could confide in was Francis, and where was he now?

Francis pushed open the door and came into the bedroom. Sitting beside Arthur he put his arms around him and held him.

"What happened Arthur mon Amour?" He whispered. "Was that Alfred?"

Arthur nodded. "He's acting strangely these days… I am even a little … no a lot afraid of him."

"Of Alfred? But why?"

Arthur looked at Francis wide eyed. "At the end of the Second World War, America did something to Japan that I will never forget… that none of us will ever forget…"

"The atomic bomb…" Gulped Francis. "Uhh… what about it?"

"He is threatening another country with it, I was trying to talk him out of it, and he … he… he's like a rabid animal, and you know… if he could do what he did to Japan, I shudder to think what he could do to me… to any of us if we ruffle his feathers."

"Oh… Alfred won't do that." Whispered Francis stroking England's soft blonde hair. "The rest of the world won't let him." He said kissing his head gently. England couldn't control his sickness and it came again, and Francis gently wiped his chin.

"Everyone is afraid of him these days." Arthur said "Except Ivan… and Ivan is just as dangerous as he is. If… if they release their weapons, we're all caught in the middle…"

"Oh, mon amour, he must have said these things to frighten you. He has a rebellious spirit, and he will calm down, you'll see." Said Francis gently. "I know you want those weapons to be disarmed. That is something we will put to the next world meeting okay?" He said gently. "For now I have brought something nice for breakfast, and I'll make you some tea, then I will do whatever is needed for you, so that you do not feel so bad. Arthur sighed and a smile came to his face. He could always rely on Francis, who loved him like no other, who he loved like no other. Francis wanted to mention that he had heard him cry and mention his name, but he kept that to himself as he held him. He then helped Arthur to his feet and walked with him through to the kitchen. Arthur just couldn't seem to get it together, he couldn't walk so well and needed to hold on to him.

"I don't know what's wrong with me these days…" mumbled Arthur. "I am just so… weak…"

Francis sat him down and knelt in front of him holding both his hands. "I am no doctor mon Angleterre, but I think I know why you are suffering so."

Arthur looked at him sadly, but there was a little hope in his green eyes. "You… do?"

Francis nodded and brushed a tear away from Arthur's sweet face. "Hush mon amour, don't cry, its alright." He whispered gently. "When America left you, he left a wound in you so great that it will never heal. He was a part of you Angleterre, and it broke you when he left. Just as it breaks me Angleterre, just as it breaks me when we fight, when we hurt each other."

"You?"

"Oh mon amour…" France said "I fell in love with you from the very beginning. Those wars we had were terrible, I have cried a thousand nights over you…" He continued and held him. "I still do, all the time… all the time… " He said. England hugged him, his face pressed into his chest. He could feel the emotion moving Francis, his Sacred heart beating faster.

"What would I do without you?" whispered Arthur gently. "I need you so much…" He said "I love you.. more than life itself."

Weeks passed and soon the next conference came around. England and France sat next to each other as usual. England looked strong, and well and happy, only Francis knew the truth of it, that all of this was a pretence, and what everyone else saw was the mask. America sat opposite them and he really didn't look like his usual self. It was his turn to talk so he stood up and went to the front of the room.

"Well as you know certain countries are a threat to world peace." He began "If I do not step in and do something, you will all be under the threat of being blown to hell. I get that certain nations here don't understand that fact." He said "I'm the hero here, so listen to me. Without my fucking big bomb to defend you all, you know where you'd be? Britain, you'd be the smallest province in the German Empire. No offence Germany."

Germany sat there looking really angry, he was offended by that comment. He managed however to hold his tongue for the time being and let America speak.

"Now there is a nation in the world who never comes to our meetings, doesn't want to engage in peace talks and is against the west, simply for being the west." He said "If you think I'm gonna let him threaten our freedom, you got another thing coming. If anyone goes against me I'll withdraw funding from everything… got that?"

The nations didn't dare disagree with him… that is except England who stood up even through Francis had tried to stop him.

"America, I must insist that you listen." He said as a parent would talk to a child. "If you were to disarm your fucking big bomb maybe the other nation would disarm his too, did you ever think of that?"

"If I disarm, he'll press the button and guess what England, no more you… after all you're the first one he'll go for."

"Me? Why would he go for me?"

"To get to me of course." America said with anger in his voice. "He wouldn't dare attack the U.S but he'd blow you to kingdom come to provoke me. Why do you never think of these things?"

"Why don't you let me talk to him, maybe if I talk to him he'll see that you're just a stupid kid with an ego problem and…"

"ENGLAND, I AM NOT A CHILD!" Yelled Alfred "I AM TIRED OF YOU TALKING TO ME LIKE YOU KNOW IT ALL!"

"I… I didn't say you were a child…" Said England. France noticed his hand shaking, but England hid it by putting his hand behind his back. America approached him and he was in the foulest of moods, nobody stood up to stop him.

"If you treat me like a child again I will slap your stupid English face to hell." He screamed "I'm sick of it, every single freaking year of my freaking life you make me feel guilty on my freaking birthday because you are so cut up about it. Do you even realise?" He yelled "I hate you England, I hate everything about you! You are a cruel, hard hearted bastard, and if you think disarming my weapon is a good idea, then look around you. You might as well be the enemy of every single one of us. I'm the fucking hero and the sooner you realise that the better."

"He's got a point you know." Poland piped up. "If we didn't have his protection we could be killed…All of us."  
"I… I'm not trying to be your enemy… please listen…." Began England but the disapproving looks of everyone made him sit down. He just looked completely defeated at that point. Germany called a break and everyone left, but Alfred finished what he had to say to England. He grabbed him by the throat much to England's shock. "You can't reason with someone who is unreasonable." Growled America "Now you fall into line you fuck… or I'll be the one that blows your fucking head off. Got that?"

"America!" Yelled Francis pushing him off England. "I think you should leave… now…" He said in a warning tone.

"What the fuck do you know, Frog?" America said pushing him back.

America left the room, and France was left alone in there with England. Once America had gone England began to breathe again, he'd been purposely holding his breath all this time so that he wouldn't be sick. He coughed hard and blood went everywhere.

"Come on Angleterre, we are going home… I cannot see you like this here."

"Why is he doing this?" He wept "I saw it in him you know… like a rabid animal when he was only a child. I think America is the most dangerous country in the world."

Francis helped him to his feet, and walked with him out of the conference. The other nations were stunned to see that England was covered in blood and it looked like he'd thrown up, it wasn't right, nothing about that was right.

"Ignore them Angleterre… " Francis whispered. England hid his face as he went by them all, being helped by Francis. He didn't like this, it was humiliating.

The other nations however weren't judging him for that, they were more over awed that he actually stood up to the mighty America when they couldn't, when they agreed with every word he said.

Arthur collapsed to the ground as soon as they were out of there, and in the street. Francis could do nothing so he picked him up and carried him towards their hotel, as quickly as he could.

It must have been some hours before England awoke, to beautiful music being played in the room, French music, Michel Berber, Seras tu La? , being played far too loud, but such a beautiful tune, and the feel of a gentle touch, of Francis stroking his hair softly.

"Angleterre… you are awake… "

"Francis…" He whispered. "I am finished, you saw their faces, they think I'm as bad as their enemy…" He said.

"Non… non, mon amour. You were the only one to stand up to America… they don't hate you, they admire you."

"America hates me…" He gulped. "How many times I have told him to disarm… and how many times has he refused…" he continued "Once I stood shoulder to shoulder with him and we invaded a country Francis…"

"I know mon amour, I was there, remember, I also did what he wanted." He said "And he was wrong and we were wrong. And its not going to happen again…" Francis replied. "It never will."

"He'll strip everyone else of the weaponry till he's the only one who has them… then what?"

"America is afraid of being attacked again…" Francis replied "That's why he's like this."

"I know." England replied "But trust you to see it from that point of view… you have such a sacred heart Francis.. you are so beautiful."

"Non… non… Angleterre… "

"You are… and I have never known any nation as beautiful as you." Arthur said "I love you."

They were interrupted by a knock on the door and Francis went to answer it. Standing there was Germany, and Poland, and Sweden, Austria, everyone who had been at the conference.

"Francis…" Ludwig began. "How is he?"

"I don't think now is a very good time Ludwig… " Francis replied.

"Tell him… tell him we understand and…." Ludwig said handing him a rolled-up piece of paper. "Give him this, it's something we are going to try to get America to sign… its about disarmament. We…also hope he is well."

"England is fine… its…he ate something he shouldn't have that's all."

Ludwig nodded as if he understood the situation. The other nations looked concerned, but they seemed to understand too.

Francis took the rolled up document to show England but when he got back to him, England was crying, really crying, there was blood on his pillow. Francis held him so close till he stopped crying so hard.

"Look my love, they did listen to you, everyone loves you…. Everyone loves you… " He whispered. "They are going to try to get America to disarm… okay? You did good… you did really good."

(Listen to Seras to la? by Michel Berger)

/en/seras-tu-l%C3% #ixzz55idm5L3f

And when our regrets will come dance

around us make us crazy

Will you be there?

For our memories and love

unforgettable inconsolable

Will you be there?

Will you follow where I'm going?

Will you be able to live the worst?

Loneliness as time passes

And usually watch them

Our enemies tell me yes

Tell me yes

When our secrets will no longer current

And when the days have passed

Will you be there?

For, our sighs the past

We wanted we dreamed

Will you be there?

The worst

Loneliness as time passes

And used them reqardes

Our enemies tell me yes

Tell me yes?

There?

Will you be there?

Will you be there?

Seras tu la - Michel Berger English Translation


	5. Seras tu la?

Later that night…

There was a knock on the door of their apartment and Francis got up to answer it.

"Don't…" urged Engand holding on to him. "I don't want to see anyone… "

"I will see who it is and tell them to leave." Francis replied. "Do not worry Mon Cher… you must rest."

He went to answer the door and who should be standing there but Alfred, and he was scowling with disgust. "Will you tell England I want to see him." He grunted as if the words were literally being forced from him.

"He really is in no state to see anyone." Francis replied. "But I want to have a word with you. Come in."

With a sigh America entered the room. "Where is he then?"

"He's asleep."

"I want to see him."

"You cannot. You will have to make do with me and what I have to tell you." Francis said firmly. "Now sit down."

"Oh for Crying out loud…" Groaned America, and sat down. "Well? What do you want to say?"

Making sure the bedroom door was closed tight Francis spoke in a low voice so that England wouldn't be able to hear him.

"You know how you came into existence Alfred. You came from me… and from Angleterre… we nurtured you… we gave you life… primarily… Angleterre gave you everything."

"And he took everything as well." Growled America "Why do you think I wanted independence in the first place?"

Francis sighed and shook his head. "He wouldn't have done that if it hadn't been for me… "

Americas eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean by that?" He asked.

"I wanted so much back then… it devastated him… and he couldn't be the father to you he wanted to be. " He replied. "We were at war… enemies." He said "You were our warchild…"

"What has that got to do with anything now?" Grumbled America. "So I'm your warchild, so what?"

"Angleterre said to me that you were like a rabid animal, he saw it in your eyes. He was right… you are dangerous, and we have to take the credit for bringing you into this world." He said "The throes of war were our birthing pains, and you are our brave new world."

Americas heart softened a little, it was kind of flattering, the things Francis was saying to him. "Are you saying you're proud of me Francis?"

"I would be… if you would listen to me… and to Angleterre…you are a very powerful force and maybe you don't know your own strength." He said as America sat there listening to him. "You have more strength in your little finger than the rest of us have in the whole of our bodies and that is saying something. You are superman to us, and yes you are a hero." He said "But you are also a teenager, who hasn't got control of his own mind yet…" He continued "So you threaten nations who are… way smaller than you are, for what reason? To look good? To create a threat that doesn't really exist? Why would you do that America? Are you afraid of something?"

"I think you'll find that he threatened me first…" growled Alfred "Or else I wouldn't have bothered with him."

"Why did you take the threat so seriously?" Francis asked in a stern tome. "You could have ignored him. You could have laughed, and walked away, knowing that you could stop him with a word… you didn't have to engage him like this. What is behind it?"

At first America didn't want to say anything and then he looked down and sighed. "Its not me, but my boss… I … understand what you're saying Francis… but I have to do what he says, even if I hate him."

"The other nations are afraid of you, not of him but of you, did you know that?"

"Afraid of me? But I'd be the one protecting everyone… I'm the hero!"

"Well they are… you must know this." He said "Angleterre is terrified of you right now."

"That's why you have to let me speak to him." America said "Things got a bit out of hand, and I didn't want to fall out with him like that. I've just been so angry of late, and to have him treat me like I was a kid again…" He sighed his mood softening "I didn't mean to hurt him." He said "Is he okay?"

Francis voice dropped to a whisper so that Arthur couldn't hear him. "He has a terrible wound America, from the war of Independence. It will never heal… and he's been trying to hide it from everyone since it happened. Sure we all know he has a nervous breakdown practically every year…"

"And he makes me feel guilty for it…" America said "But… what injury? What are you talking about?"

"Its deep inside him, and I've seen it tear him apart. He never told a soul and he doesn't know I'm telling you now. You have got to keep quiet about it. Promise you will." He said quietly. "That's why he seems emotionally distant sometimes, because the wound will open up again."

"But… but I didn't know…" Gasped America "I just always thought he was being a cold hearted bastard…"

"You know he's not really." Francis said "You've seen him in tears plenty of times." He continued "I have seen it first hand. I have held him whilst blood poured from his mouth…"

America looked horrified at this, he genuinely had no idea that the war of Independence had hurt England so much. He felt a bit guilty but then shook his head.

"No… no I refuse to feel guilty about this, it is not my fault." He said "I will take what you were saying into consideration Francis. Please will you let me see him? Let me speak to him, at least to apologise for earlier. I will be more gentle in the future now that I know he is sick, but… I will not feel guilty about it."

"I will ask him if he wants to see you.. wait here." Francis said as he opened the door to the bedroom. England lay there on the bed staring into space.

"Angleterre, America has come to apologise for earlier. Do you want to see him?"

England nodded and slowly got out of bed, stumbling to the door, and Francis ran to his aid. "I will see him. In there…" He uttered and with some real effort was able to stand and walk, even if it took every ounce of strength he had.

"England…" America began "I apologise for losing my temper earlier." He said looking at him with strange eyes. Was there any sign of this injury? It didn't seem as though there was, although earlier the other nations were saying they saw blood on him. He looked alright now.

"That's alright. You have nothing to apologise for." England replied "You had some good points and I understand you just want to protect everyone, all I was saying to you… all I wanted to say was maybe it is better to use the bomb for protection and not to threaten anyone. Even if they threaten you first, you see… to put it bluntly, if I threatened Ivan, he would laugh and maybe ignore everything I said, and anyway I wouldn't attack him… You see? Maybe this other nation, who is isolated from the rest of us, perhaps he is not such a big threat to you as you perceive him to be."

"I understand your point." America replied. "Okay… I'll use it for protection only… and maybe my boss won't be so keen to threaten to blow up everyone… I don't know about him. I don't like him very much. " He said "I hope he'll listen to me… I don't know." He said as he made to leave. He walked away and then walked back. "But I want you to know I don't submit to emotional blackmail." He said with conviction. "You might be sick but its not my fault, and I owe you nothing. Do you hear? Nothing."

"Of course not." England said looking away from him. "I would never blackmail you in such a way, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't." Said America with cynicism. He'd promised not to tell him that he knew of his injury, and so he didn't. He looked at Francis who looked a bit scared right now, as if he was anticipating America telling England that he knew, and worse that Francis had betrayed his confidence and told the younger nation everything. America didn't trust either of them. England didn't look sick, and maybe he had instructed Francis to say what he did, so he could emotionally blackmail him. He was very suspicious of this but he didn't continue the conversation.

"Right well that's settled… see ya later guys." America said being all cocky and young and full of himself. Off he went, leaving them to sort out their own mess, or so he thought. Francis saw him out and closed the door, before rushing back to the side of his Angleterre.

"Are you alright mon amour?" He asked in a husky voice.

"Better… than I was…" England replied. "You told him didn't you? You told him… when I'd asked you not to."

"Angleterre…. I am sorry, he needed to know what he was putting you through every year… he did not see it…"

"He did not need to see it." England replied. "I only let you see… I didn't want you to tell him…"

"I thought he needed to know this, so he can understand you better."

"Now he thinks I tried to blackmail him… Thanks a lot Francis…" He said sadly. "I can't trust anyone… not even you."

"Oh… mon amour please don't think this way…" Francis said "Do you want me to leave…?" He asked. England said nothing in reply so Francis got his jacket and prepared to leave, not saying a word. However as he was about to go out the door, Arthur stumbled towards him and fell down on the floor, blood spewing from his mouth, and coughing badly. Francis ran to him and held him. "Oh mon amour I cannot leave you in such a state…"

"It would seem… Francis…" coughed England "That you leaving… causes the same symptoms…." He said. "Don't leave me…. Please…" He sighed. Francis gazed into Englands deep green eyes, once again feeding on the angst, and his pain, gentle tears whispering down the cheeks of his little Angleterre, but what he hadn't realised, what neither of them knew was that every time Angleterre felt the pain, the hurt, the anguish, that Francis would get stronger and he would get weaker. None of them made that connection, although Francis was starting to get an inkling that's what was happening. He wanted his husband to cry, to be hurt, to need him, and the more he did the more powerful he felt. As he laid Arthur down to rest and held him these thoughts came to his mind. Those thoughts both fascinated him and frightened him at the same time. He realised that the centuries of fighting with Angleterre had a similar effect, only in those days he was feeding off the pain of war, now he fed off the pain of Angleterre's deep emotions. He didn't feel the slightest bit of guilt, only held on to him even tighter, to feel, to watch his tears. How long could this go on? Did it matter? Francis wasn't going to say how he felt because that would drive him away, he just had to make sure that his husband needed him above all others, and that was all.


	6. Never a truer heart

Some weeks later, Arthur felt a lot stronger, and he and Francis were closer than ever, spending every day with one another, bike riding, picnics, and fun was always on the agenda, till one day there was a phone call. Francis would normally answer and tell whoever it was to go away, he was doing it to protect England, to stop anyone else getting near him in fact, of course he didn't divulge that to his husband. Francis was busy in the kitchen so Arthur picked it up and there on the other end was a familiar voice.

"Hi its Alfred." He said, "Yes I know you keep saying England is busy but if you could just tell him I want to talk to him…"

"Hi… its…er… England here…" replied Arthur

"Wow I was expecting Francis again." Said Alfred "Its so good to talk to ya, I've been trying to get hold of you for weeks. "

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked confused.

"Well every time I rang Francis would say you were busy, I don't know what's so important for ya that ya can't spare me a few minutes on the phone…"

"Oh… its just… work and things…" Arthur lied. "But I have time now."

"Ok dude I'm in London for a couple of days cos the President is visiting, thought ya might wanna meet up."

"Oh of course Francis and I…"

"No not Francis… Just you and me." Alfred said. "I feel kinda bad about the things that happened before, I just want to talk like we used to. Can you make it?"

"Er… now?" Gulped Arthur as he looked around. Francis was still in the kitchen making some delicious food. He hadn't even heard the phone ring and was completely unaware. "Uhhh Francis is just making some food…I can't really…"

"Dammit Artie!" Sighed America "Are you so blind ya can't see what he's doing to ya?"

"What do you mean?"

"Dude nobody can get a hold of ya. We've all been phoning and calling and sending emails and texts and nobody's seen or heard from ya. Francis keeps saying you're busy all the time… didn't he tell you everyone's been trying to call?"

"Um… no actually he didn't mention it…." England muttered wondering why Francis hadn't passed on any calls or messages to him. "I expect he just didn't want to disturb my er…work…" England said covering for him.

"Look, why dontcha just come over ok? I'm staying at the Hilton."

"I... don't think I…"

"If ya don't come over tonight it could be a long time before I can see ya again if Francis is controlling your life like this." Alfred said. "If you're coming over I'll expect you in an hour. Don't bring him I don't want him around."

That comment really annoyed Arthur. He hadn't thought Francis was controlling his life but when he realised that he'd kept all his phone calls and messages from him and kept everyone away from him that was suspicious.

"He's not controlling my life… I'll see you in an hour." Mumbled Arthur as he put the phone down. Francis was still in the kitchen, singing away and cooking and genuinely hadn't heard a word. Arthur stood at the door of the kitchen watching him. Quietly before Francis could say anything, England got his coat and sneaked out the front door without saying anything. It was twenty minutes before Francis came through to the sitting room.

"Dinner is almost ready…." He said flamboyantly but then as he looked around, Arthur was nowhere in sight.

"Angleterre?" He asked, his breath catching in his throat. "Angleterre?" He began to panic, every room he checked and he wasn't there, he was gone. He'd simply walked out without so much as a bye or leave, and he hadn't said a word. He realised that Arthur's coat wasn't hanging up where it usually was either. Still, at least his clothes weren't gone, so it was likely he'd just gone out for a few minutes for fresh air perhaps. He went back into the kitchen and turned off all the appliances, the cooker and the kettle and everything else, and just sat down at the table, his hands shaking, trembling with panic.

"Je me quitte pas" he mumbled as he drank from a glass of French red wine. "Je me quitte pas… Je me..qu… itte pas…."

At the Hilton, Arthur arrived and knocked on the door and Alfred answered.

"Hey Dude, I'm glad ya showed up. " Alfred said and gave him a huge hug. "I've been so worried about you, everybody's been worried about ya." He said "Look I got us a takeout…"

Arthur glanced at the McDonalds meal in a bag on the table. It wasn't nearly as appetising as the food Francis made, but he didn't tell Alfred that.

"Sit down Dude, I got something I gotta say." Alfred said sitting down "Pull up a chair." Arthur couldn't help thinking that Francis would have pulled up a chair for him. However he sat down with Alfred and tried to tackle the McDonalds Big Mac and fries and a coke. It tasted disgusting but he didn't say anything.

"So… what do you have to say Alfred?" Arthur asked as Alfred ate like a horse, stuffing his face with food just like he used to when he was a kid.

"I was thinking that you er… had to have been going through something right?"

"So what if I have." Sighed Arthur… "I haven't been trying to emotionally blackmail you if that's what you think." He said. "I told Francis not to say anything to anyone…"

"I believe ya Artie." Alfred said and at that moment there was something that passed between them. Their eyes locked just for a moment and Arthur looked away.

"What are we like buddy?" America said reaching out and taking Arthur's hand. He didn't pull away from him he just let him take his hand and hold it.

"You were always my big brother, my guardian, almost father, I've called you that… "

"America… you were … are… my life." Arthur replied in a rare moment of clarity. "When we were together, everything was so different. I watched you grow… I …I…"

"And you've been everything to me Arthur." America replied sitting a little closer. "When I heard you were sick, I just wanted to make you well again. Just wanted to try… " He said kneeling at his chair.

"America…" sighed Arthur with tears in his eyes. "I love you, I always have… always…"

"I know what will make it better Artie…" America said softly as he moved to kiss him tenderly on the lips. Taken by surprise Arthur was at first hesitant but then such a feeling of warmth came to him, in that empty place that had been hurting ever since America left him, filled again with light and love and happiness… filling him up with something beautiful. America held him and kept kissing him over and over.

"I love you so much Alfred…" he sighed "You have no idea…"

"We could be one again…" Sighed America "You could be mine this time, I'd look after you."

"You…?" gulped Arthur "You love me like that?"

"Yes, we could run this world together." Alfred said softly nibbling on his ear. "There would be no need to argue about anything, and we'd be happy wouldn't we Artie?"

Slowly the tears fell from Arthur's eyes as he realised woefully that this was a lie, a terrible lie, a heartbreakingly selfish lie. "And… and… we'll be together always…?" He asked.

"You're my everything Artie…" Sighed America "Just think of what we could be together… just think about it.. and I'll make love to you… " He said undoing the buttons on Arthurs shirt. "I was yours… and now you'll be mine…"

Tender sobs escaped him as America kissed his neck and started to undress him. Oh but the feeling of love for him was overwhelming, and yet inside he knew that it wasn't true… it could never be true.

"I want it so bad…" He whispered, as he cried softly "Everything you said, I want so bad…I want you… I love you…"

"There's no need to cry my love…" America said "shhh…"

Francis sat at home quietly, tensely waiting for Arthur to come home. His beautifully prepared dinner lay untouched, as he poured himself yet another glass of wine and shakily held it to his lips.

"Je me quitte pas…" was all he could say.

It was not so long till he heard the door open, keys turning in the lock and Arthur entered, closing the door softly behind him. As he went to the kitchen he saw Francis there, looking quite upset, shakily sipping his wine.

"Where did you go?" He asked quietly. "Je etias inquiet"

"It doesn't matter Francis." Arthur replied.

As he approached, Francis saw that he was limping and something wasn't right. He finally looked up at him and it was obvious he'd been in some kind of fight, there were bruises on his face, and his shirt was ripped. It had been raining badly outside and he was soaking wet, he didn't even have his coat on, as he'd left it behind.

"It will never matter again…" He said softly. "Je t'aime… Francis… Je t'aime…" He said reaching for Francis.

Alarmed, Francis jumped up and held him, tightly as he could. "Je me quitte pas… Arthur…" He sobbed. "Je t'aime…."

He helped Arthur get into some dry pyjamas and sat with him on the sofa stroking his hair and hugging him. "I didn't know where you'd gone. You left without saying anything… and our food … you didn't even want that."

"I did… you've no idea how much I did." Arthur replied snuggling into Francis warm chest.

"Where did you go Mon Amour?" Francis asked gently.

"I went to see Alfred." He replied, and Francis heart could have stopped in his chest. He gulped and his grip seemed to get tighter.

"A…Alfred? What did he want?"

"You've been keeping my phone calls and messages from me…or so he said…."

Francis let go of him and sat up and then he stood up…pacing backwards and forwards on the floor his heart pounding fast.

"I… I… confess." He said finally. "I feel so much love for you, so much… its hard to control." He said. "Are you going to tell me that its over…. That you are in love with your former colony? " cried Francis. "Don't try to pretend there's nothing between you… you've always loved him."

Arthur looked at him with pure love in his eyes and took his hand. "Sit down my love." He said softly. "Please…"

Francis sat down and looked him in the eyes, those tender green eyes that he adored and loved so much. "Je me quitte pas…" He mumbled.

"Alfred wanted me." He said. Francis' eyes filled with tears, and his lips started quivering as he listened to what Arthur was saying, his heart breaking in his chest.

"He kissed me, and he said he wanted to be with me again…"

At those words, Francis broke down, sobbing into his hands, believing it was the end. "I…suppose you will want to be with him…"

"He lied… selfishly and horribly… he lied…" Arthur replied. "He made me feel whole again, he played on my love for him, he promised so much and I can't deny it Francis, I wanted it so bad…"

Francis just looked at him wide eyed as he spoke and listened. He took both of his hands in his own and held them. Arthur continued "He said he wanted to make the hurt go away, and believe me Francis he did, it felt like I was… the way I used to be…" Arthur said "But it was a lie, and it was the worst thing anyone has ever done to me…" He continued, unable to keep the tears from coming, he tried to remain calm. "He wanted me to be his, to run the world with him, and you know what that would mean? It would mean I would be under his control and completely powerless… a slave to the most dangerous and powerful nation on the planet… I love him, but I love him the way he used to be. " Arthur said "A wild child… a son… not this… not this man he has become."

Francis just continued to stare at him not sure if he should be angry or grateful that he came back to him or what he should be feeling. He blinked a few times wondering what to say.

"I'll tell you what I did Francis…" Sniffled Arthur as he brushed away a tear "I pushed him off me."

Earlier that night….

"I love you my England…" whispered Alfred in his ear as he continued to undo his buttons. "Just think… we'll be one again, and you'll never be ill and you'll be powerful, so powerful…."

"Or you will be…" Arthur replied. "With no one to contradict what you say." He gasped as America kissed his neck.

"Hmm…" Alfred replied. "You have no idea how many nights I have dreamed of kissing you, of making love to you.." he said with a low growl.

Arthur wanted more and he felt delirious but he managed to find some strength and pushed him off, scrambling to his feet. "Don't you ever…ever do a thing like that to me again…" He cried. "You are a liar Alfred F. Jones." He said. "I have the love of the most beautiful man with a sacred heart…" He said firmly. "His name is Francis Kirkland Bonnefoy, and he's my husband. I will never cheat on him, not with you, not with anyone. I love him." He said making his way to the door, and picking up his coat. "That was the worst thing you've ever done to me Alfred…worse than …that day…" he sobbed but as he was about to leave Alfred grabbed him and pulled him back, throwing him to the floor.

"I offer you the world and you throw it back in my face? What is this? Are you fucking stupid England?"

"No…" He said in a low voice "I think I'm seeing the light for the very first time…" He said and got up. "I don't want you… I want my husband."

In a fit of rage, America hit him once, twice, three times. Arthur just let him, and didn't fight back. He left him there and limped home to Francis, the man he loved with all his heart.

Francis listened and his heart filled with love as Arthur told him what happened. They hugged each other and cried, deep crying as never a truer heart beat in any mens bosom.


	7. The Darkness in his Past

The Darkness of His Past

Francis was in the kitchen alone preparing some food. He always made the dinner because England happened to be a terrible cook, always burning things, getting recipes wrong and most of the time ending up with a pile of mush on a plate instead of something delicious. Even as he chopped the vegetables and took care with everything, his skills in cooking unsurpassed, he couldn't stop the tears that came, trickling gently down his porcelain cheeks. He had to stop for a minute, to console himself. Shakily he picked up his glass of red wine and held it to his lips, sipping it down. Arthur entered the kitchen even though Francis had insisted he didn't want him in there whilst he was cooking. Before he could see, Francis turned away from him as if he was just cooking and stirring something in a pot.

"I think I left my reading glasses in here…" Arthur said. Francis didn't reply, he couldn't, he was so emotionally upset.

"Francis?" Arthur asked, noticing that something wasn't right. Maybe it was just how he was standing there, hunched over a little, head down… not answering him, pretending to stir a pot, it was obvious. When Francis got upset, his whole body language changed, every part of him cried, not just a few tears shed.

"Francis…" Arthur said again, moving behind him, he turned off the stuff on the cooker and made him turn around.

"What are you doing Angleterre? The food will spoil if you…."

"Shhh… " Arthur said as he took Francis into his arms gently. "You've never been good at disguising your feelings… "

"Angleterre…" He sobbed overcome by Arthur's empathy for him. "How did you know?"

"I always know…" He replied. "Come on… just forget about the cooking for now… " He said softly and helped him through the sitting room. Sobbing, Francis went with Arthur through to the sitting room, where his love sat him down and gave him his wine.

"Here you go my love." He said gently. "Why don't you tell me what's wrong?" He asked.

"It… its stupid really…" Francis replied shakily drinking his wine. "You… don't want to know… "

Arthur cupped Francis cheek in his hand and looked him in the eyes. "Yes I do… no matter how stupid you think it sounds…"

Francis cried a little, so Arthur held him, although Francis was a little bigger than him. Arthur sat back on the sofa and pulled him to his chest, stroking his fingers through Francis' blond curls. In that moment he was so delicate, so vulnerable.

"It… it's the anniversary of… my mothers death." He said quietly, his voice sounding so broken. "I… saw her murdered by my fathers hand… and tonight it all just came back. I forced myself not to think about it for a very long time… and now… I remember it as if it only just happened."

"You never speak of your past my love." Arthur said softly. "Do you want to talk about it now?"

Francis nodded. "But what about your food Mon Cher…?"

"Never mind about that… or my needs… you've taken care of me and now its your turn to be taken care of." Arthur whispered.

"I was a child Arthur… before you and I even met…" He said quietly. "My mother was the gentlest kindest person anyone could ever meet. She made me feel loved and cared about… and I loved her." He uttered, and my father, would go out to wars, battles and was always absent, and I didn't care, because he was a violent man, a terrible man… my mother protected me. Then he came home from a war, and they were arguing. He accused her of being a whore, that I wasn't his son, and he hit her so hard Arthur… he beat her, right in front of me… I couldn't do anything." Francis said, his whole body shuddering. "What could I do?" He cried "He killed her… and then he turned on me… "

"That's just terrible my love, that you had to go through that…" Said Arthur in a soothing voice. "No wonder you're upset… I mean… who wouldn't be?"

"And….and my Father…" Francis said as he sat up away from Arthur, sipping his wine, shaking… my Father abused me… Arthur…"

"Abused you? In what way?" Gulped Arthur as he watched his lover tremble and break down in front of him. Francis just gave him a look that said it all.

"Oh my poor love…" Arthur said, tears forming in his eyes. "You never… you never said a word about it…"

"I… am so ashamed." Francis said "I thought if you knew what happened you'd… leave me… " He said and looked to Arthur with desperation in his eyes. "I've never loved anyone as deeply as I love you…" He uttered, his voice thick with emotion. "Je me Quitte Pas…" He gulped. "Now that I have told you… do you think less of me?"

"No…" Arthur replied, as he took his wine glass from him and placed it on the table. "I could never in a million years, ever think less of you Francis…" He said "You are the most wonderful, loving husband I could ever ask for…" He uttered and kissed Francis on his wet cheek. "You are such a delicate, gentle man now…"

"I keep thinking of… how I treated you when we were young. I … I read your diary and it brought it all back. I know I beat you badly and I hurt you." He said, "If I could take it all back I would." Francis sobbed. "I know there were times I beat you to a bloody pulp." He sobbed feeling all the guilt from that. "When you went to see Alfred and… you said he kissed you… I was so upset … I didn't know what to think…" He said in a kind of panic "I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to leave me, after all I did those things to you… I hurt you over and over and…"

"Francis I'm sorry…" Arthur said quickly. "I promise you with every breath I take, I will dedicate my life to you from now on." He said "America is like a son to me, not a lover. When he kissed me, I did feel that warmth yes, but it wasn't like the way you kiss me… it didn't set my soul on fire the way your kisses do, and his lies… "Arthur said shaking his head in shame. "I saw the light for the first time and he will get over it, as I will… I want you to know my love, that nothing will ever come between us again…" He said, "I should never have gone to meet him."

"You really love me Angleterre?" Francis asked as he wiped his tears on his shirt sleeve.

"With every beat of my ridiculously messed up heart…" Arthur replied. "With every breath in my body Francis… I love you."

"Ohhh… " Francis sighed, letting it all out, he turned to Arthur and put his arms around him, overcome with love and emotion, weeping into his lover's neck. Arthur reached around and wrapped Francis curls in his fingers as he cried. "Je me quitte pas…" He choked. "Je t'aime…"

"I will never leave you… " Sighed Arthur. "Seeing you weep like this is breaking my heart… I could never leave your side."

Francis held on to him tighter as if he didn't want to let go. He let Francis sob his beautiful heart out and held him kissing him gently on his tender lips, looking into deep blue eyes, letting him know how loved he truly was.

"Let me show you just how deeply I love you…" Arthur whispered as he undid a few buttons of Francis shirt.


	8. Morte D' Arthur?

A few weeks passed and America and England hadn't spoken or had any contact so it was kind of awkward at the next meeting, in New York given what had taken place between them. Arthur couldn't look him in the eye and didn't want to talk to him or anyone for that matter. He spent all the time he could at Francis' side. However, America wanted a chance to talk to him and caught him at a rare moment, looking out over New York harbour, whilst Francis was getting some food and drink for them.

"England…Artie…" He mumbled awkwardly. Arthur shied away from him, afraid to even look at him.

"I'm not interested in anything you have to say." He replied "You messed up everything we ever had."

Alfred sighed and stood beside him and a little in front of him. "Look… I just want to apologise, that was… wrong of me to come on to you like that. I should have respected your choices. You love Francis, I get that." He said "Is there any way we could maybe be friends again? We have so much history…"

Francis was standing nearby and saw America talking to England. He was going to intervene but he stopped and listened behind some trees instead. He could hear them talking.

"Please Artie, I just want to make it up to you… don't you care about me at all?" America asked, looking upset.

"Of course I care about you." England said finally turning to him. "But you have to understand the way I feel about you…."

"I know." Alfred reached out and shook the Brit's hand and smiled. "It's complicated…"

"I suppose I love you both in different ways." Arthur said "Francis and I what we have is… " England said, sort of stammering. "That is… I'll never love him in the way I love you…" He said. "You're like a son to me Alfred, not a lover, and he's like… the most wonderful man…" He said emotionally. "But.. I can forgive you okay, just don't do it again…"

All Francis heard was "I'll never love him the way I love you." And that was enough, he didn't stay to hear the rest, he just walked off, stunned at what he thought England had just said, and he kept walking.

"I won't." Alfred said with a smile. "I'm sorry, I won't do it again. Seems like you really love the guy."

"With my very soul." Arthur replied. "You couldn't ask for a better love than him… that's why I married him you see… I love him so much."

"I'm happy for ya Artie." Alfred said and gave him a hug. "But you'll always be my sorta…Dad.. ok?"

"Yes.. " replied Arthur hugging him. "Now you go and do what you have to do… " He said with a smile. "I'm waiting for my husband."

"Alright.. see ya in the meeting." Alfred said as he walked off.

Arthur waited and waited but Francis didn't show up. That worried him, because everything was going well … and yet he was missing. He waited all afternoon, and in the conference he didn't saw a word, he just sat there worried. Francis was gone, and Arthur felt vulnerable without him.

Things were getting really desperate and he couldn't wait till the end of the conference, he just walked out and went back to the apartment in New York with a sense of dread, and feeling somehow very very weak, so weak in fact that he could hardly walk, and there was an ache in his chest that would not go away. Upon entering the apartment he realised that Francis was gone, really gone. His clothes were gone, his possessions, everything, and he hadn't even left a note to say he was leaving.

It was too much for Arthur, he collapsed to his knees, unable to breathe properly, his muscles drained of energy, his heart hurting so much. Blood spewed from his mouth and on to the carpet. He knelt there, on his hands and knees trying to wipe it away from his chin. It took all his strength to try to call Francis on the phone but there was no answer. He texted him a few words. "I love you."

Francis didn't pay any attention. He heard his phone beeping and instead threw it out of the window. He didn't want to talk to Arthur, he was upset and angry and just a bit numb actually from what he heard. The last person he wanted to talk to in those moments was Arthur.

Meanwhile, Arthur felt his life ebbing away from him. In all the time he'd been with Francis something had been making him weaker and weaker but he couldn't fathom out what it was, and it hit him as he lay there in the apartment in New York, that he needed Francis so much… even just to stay alive.

Weeks passed and no one had seen or heard from Arthur, but by now this wasn't unusual because Francis handled all his affairs for him and did everything for him. Three weeks… and Francis was all over the place. He hadn't done anything right, he hadn't even cooked anything, and was lost without his Angleterre. He was so distant when people talked to him, and hardly spoke to anyone anyway. It was some time later that America rang him wanting to speak to Arthur.

"Francis, so glad I got your new number, what happened to your old phone?"

"I threw it out… it is a long story. 'Ow can I 'elp you Alfred?" He wasn't happy about speaking to him but he continued. "What do you want?" He asked sounding defeated.

"Ok.. can I speak to England? Is he there?"

"Isn't 'e with you?" sighed Francis. "Didn't you and 'e end up together?"

"Together? What are you talking about?" Alfred asked. "He told me he loved me like a son…" America stopped talking for a moment. "Francis…where is Arthur?"

The realisation hit Francis hard. Arthur hadn't meant he loved Alfred more than him at all, he meant that he loved him in a different way. He went completely pale, and started shaking.

"I don't know… " He uttered. "I left him in New York…"

"Christ!" Gasped Alfred. "I hope to God he's still there!"

Alfred slammed the phone down, and immediately Francis hired a private Jet to take him to New York. He felt so bad about this. England hadn't been in touch with anybody for weeks, and nobody knew where he was. He started to try to ring him but there was no answer, so he texted and texted but there was nothing.

Alfred arrived at the apartment and had to break the door down. What he saw sent him into a kind of panic. Arthur lay on the floor where he'd fallen when Francis left him, blood around his head, and there was no movement. Was he dead? What had happened to him? He felt for a pulse in his wrist and there was one, but he was unconscious there, and maybe had been for some time. Alfred shook him a little. "Artie… are you ok? Artie…?"

Arthur opened his eyes a little. "Francis…" was all he could say. Of course it wasn't Francis, it was Alfred.

"No.. no… he's on his way Artie… you hang on in there… he'll be here… you just hold on." He said as he called an ambulance.

Later he called Francis to tell him what had happened.

"He's in the hospital…" He said "They are saying he isn't going to make it…" Alfred said. "They don't know why, there's just something wrong…and they can't find what it is."

"I have to see him…" Francis replied, obviously crying. "Stay with him… tell him I want to see him… tell him I love him…" He said "Please don't let him die…"

As soon as he landed, Francis got in a cab and made his way to the hospital even though the streets were clogged up with traffic. It took him a while to get there, and he rushed into the hospital, eventually found the private room where Arthur was being looked after.

He was lying unconscious on the bed and Alfred was there, the life support machine was on and he looked in such a pitiful state.

"Francis thank God you're here!" Alfred said. "He's done nothing but whisper your name over and over… and he's fading away…" He said "The doctor says he won't last the night."

Distraught Francis knelt by the bed, and took Arthurs hand in his, kissing his cold fingers. "Je t'aime…" He wept. "I am so sorry mon amour…." He said "I thought you and Alfred were…" He tried to say, but his voice cracked and he wept deeply. "How was I to know it would kill you?"

Alfred couldn't watch. He ran out of there, tears streaming down his face. He felt like he'd caused this to happen, after all, England was his guardian, he should have understood that. He should never have tried to love him in a different way... Arthur loved Francis... not him.. not like that.

"I thought that when you said you'd die if I left you… that you didn't mean it literally…." Francis uttered, realising how ill England had been these months. How he'd been coughing up blood, how he'd just grown weaker and more dependent on Francis. "What is killing you? Is it love?" He gazed at the pitiful figure before him. He hadn't eaten, he looked so thin... so small...

The monitors of England's heart started to beat a little faster as Francis spoke and slowly England opened his eyes and took in a deep breath.

"Francis…" he sighed. "Francis… je…t'aime…" he said "Please don't leave me… I can't live without you…"

"Promise me that you will live…" Francis said "I can't live without my life… and you are my life…" He continued "I really thought that Alfred… and you…."

"Never…" England uttered "It was always you Francis… don't ever think otherwise…" he wheezed. "I was just telling him that you are the one I wanted to be with, but I would always love him as my adopted son… you see?"

"I do now…" Francis wept. "I love you Angleterre… I love you… ."

"Je t'aime…" Arthur replied through his delirium. "I love you."

Later that night the doctor told them that some miracle had happened and he might live after all, but it wasn't going to be something he'd just recover from. He needed Francis there, or he would die, and Francis really didn't want to be anywhere else. He would stay by Arthur's bedside till he was strong enough, and he promised himself he would never ever leave him alone again.

Even later that night, as Arthur slept, a doctor entered the room, he introduced himself as Dr House and shook Francis' hand. "Excuse me sir, are you his next of kin?" He asked.

Francis nodded. "He is my husband." He said. "What is happening to him?"

"We don't know for sure." Dr House replied. "There seems to have been some sort of energy drain. His physiology is all wierd... he's not like a normal human being... but I wouldn't have said alien or anything like that. I think you know what he is..."

"We are...nations." Francis confessed immediately, he didn't see any point in keeping it a secret. "Me... him... that garcon in the hallway drinking all the coffee and swearing a lot..."

Dr House blinked a few times, not sure what to believe. "Oh... okay so you are...?"

"France." Francis replied.

"That asshole in the hallway drinking all the coffee and swearing a lot?"

"America." Francis said "Sorry."

"Oh no need." Dr House replied. "So...which one is he?"

"United Kingdom..." Francis whispered.

"Oh... that explains a lot." Dr House said. "Britain was known as the sick man of Europe in the seventies... or didn't you know that?"

"Excuse me?"

"Read your history books if you don't believe me... then of course being France you probably know that already... just teasing me right?" Dr House said with a strange look on his face."Maybe he's got the same problem he had back then. Of course I wasn't his physician..." He said wondering about that. This was the first time he'd ever come in contact with actual nations, it was kind of a strange experience for him.

"No. I don't think so." Francis said. "I think its something I..."

"What?" Dr House asked looking at him suspiciously. "Something you did?"

"Dr House...?" Francis asked "Have you ever come across an organism or ... a creature that might absorb the energy of another?"

"Only people in general." Dr House replied as he prepared an injection for Arthur. "It has been proven scientifically that we feed off each others energy... like energy vampires." He said. "I think it can only happen if... one person is in need of energy and another produces a lot of it..." His eyes widened as he spoke. Surely France wasn't draining Englands energy ...was he? "Oh wait... you don't think you ...did this?"

"I think I did. I think I might have almost killed him." Francis replied, as tears came to him. "I couldn't help it... I didn't know..." He said. "What have I done?"


	9. The Cause of Pain

A few more days were spent in the hospital whilst Dr House did some more tests. Francis stayed by Arthurs side the whole time except for when he needed to get changed or something, but most of the time he was there, and feeling very guilty, thinking he was the one who had caused Arthur such pain.

Arthur regained some strength but was still quite weak and didn't want to eat or drink, but Francis made him eat or drink, giving him some soup, which he rejected straight away.

"I really can't eat it." England sighed into his pillow. "It repulses me."

"Angleterre…" Francis said "You must eat it. If you don't you will have no strength at all… then were will we be?" He said "You have to sit up and eat…I want you to get better. I need you…"

"You don't need me." Arthur sighed bitterly. "You left me alone for goodness knows how long." He said "And you didn't care."

Francis looked so upset when he said that, and he put the soup down, took his husbands hand and kissed his fingers. "I gave you this ring because I love you, and I married you because I love you. I thought you had left me for Alfred and that's why you weren't talking to me or calling… I was crying most of the time. I had no idea you were lying on that apartment floor… almost dead because of…"

Arthur looked at him, the tears streaming down his own face, he was bitter and upset about the whole thing. Francis was in pieces, all hurt, and as he spoke he burst into deep sobs, so it was hard to make out what he was trying to say.

"I love you Francis…" whispered Arthur. "I just don't think you love me very much."

"Arthur…" he said through deep sobs. "I feel so guilty, I almost killed you."

At that point in came Dr House with some papers. "Cheer up Mr France." He said sort of cheerfully, and nodded to Arthur. "And you Mr UK." He said. "We did some tests and no, you're not being drained of energy by France." He said to him. "To avoid any confusion I'll come straight to the point… Mr UK you have Celiac disease." He said "The symptoms are constant pain, weakness, vitamin deficiency, emotional problems, hallucinations, and a terrible allergy to gluten and wheat. You also have a bleeding ulcer in your stomach causing you to vomit blood." He said in a matter of fact way. "Whenever you get emotionally upset its aggravating your symptoms and yes you could have died, luckily we got you in time."

Francis immediately let out a sigh of both relief and upset at the same time. "Do you mean to say he's allergic to wheat? That's what's killing him?"

"Yes." Dr House said. "But it's the blood vomit that gets me though… how long has that been going on?"

"Well… about 200 years." Arthur replied "Um… that's the equivalent of 5 years… by human standards…"

"Well I may need to do some more tests but your condition is chronic and we need to make sure that it hasn't progressed to intestinal cancer." He said seriously. "I'll do the biopsy later today, but you need to start eating differently Mr UK. None of that soup… that's bad for you. We'll write you up a diet that will help, get you on medication… and everything should clear up… if you haven't got cancer of course."

Dr House soon left the room. This was quite a revelation, and Francis had never even heard of Celiac disease before, neither had Arthur, and he had no idea he was suffering from it.

"I wonder when I developed an allergy to wheat?" He mumbled grasping Francis' hand.

"I thought it was me…." Francis uttered as he hugged him tight. "I thought I was draining you of energy, I thought I was killing you." He said. "I feel so guilty, how can I ever make it up to you Arthur?" He cried. "I had no idea it was Celiac disease, and now you might have intenstinal cancer…. "

For what seemed like hours they just held each other and wept, but at least they knew what was going on now. The deep injury wasn't caused by emotions or dark forces or missing America, England was suffering from an allergy, and as a result he couldn't absorb vitamins or keep his strength up.

"You're going to need me more and more Arthur…" Francis said softly as he began to recover from feeling upset. "I … I want you to know I will be there for you… no matter what." He said, as he stroked his husbands tender face. "I have always, loved you. I only wish I wasn't so insecure myself…"

Arthur looked into his husbands eyes and saw true love there. "We can learn to trust each other again F..Francis…" He said with hope in his heart.

"We can and will…" Francis replied "And you have to let me help you ok?" he continued "If we let America know, and the others, they will be understanding…"

"Must we?" Asked Arthur "I don't want them to pity me…"

Francis nodded. "I know, but the best way for them not to worry about you or pity you is to let them know exactly what is going on. They might not have heard of Celiac disease either."

"I don't know how I developed it… " Arthur groaned as Francis hugged him tight.

"Maybe you always had it." He replied "You were a bit of a sickly child in the beginning. You were strong for a while but now you need someone… let me be that someone."

"You are that someone." Arthur replied. "Thank you for everything… I was just so hurt when you left but… if you promise me you won't do that again… we can start afresh can't we?"

"Yes of course my love, of course we can." He replied as he rocked him and held him close. He still wondered why he felt so powerful at times when he watched Arthur weep and that was still a puzzle, but for now he was determined to be there for his husband, to help him battle that wretched disease and look after him.


End file.
